I'm Laying Down My Gun, Hanging Up My Boots
by mymuseandi
Summary: S5 Finale spoiler: There is a time for everything.
1. Chapter 1 Time to go

**A/N:** Title inspired by If You're Reading This by Tim McGraw.

Unbeta-ed. Please excuse the mistakes.

**Disclaimer:** No, I don't own these people. I can't afford it.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

"Dean."

Dean looked up from Dad's journal, saw Lisa walk towards him with a letter in her hands. There was a soft sad smile on her face, the same one that she wore these days whenever she studied him. That smile made his heart ache, like a phantom hand squeezing that organ slowly and steadily. He offered a small smile smile in return, and closed the journal.

His smile turned puzzled as she closed the distance and sat down beside him at the dining table, her hands stretching out to pass him a letter.

"Is this for me?" Lisa nodded.

Dean glanced at the front of the envelope and froze. The handwriting was Sam's.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

_Dean,_

_If you're reading this, looks like I had a one-way trip down to the Pit. But you already knew that. Thanks for honoring my last request. No one else deserves a normal life more than you do._

_I know you'll remember to take care of everybody, to take care of the car, but most importantly, remember to take care of yourself._

_I hope you'll remember me not as the person who said yes to Lucifer, but as the Sammy whom you raised to be the Sam whom you taught to always do the right thing, no matter what._

_Your little brother,  
Sam._

***SnSnSnSnSn***

"Sam spoke to me about a week ago, saying that he mailed a letter for you to my address, and to give it to you when you reached here. I didn't really believe it, but then I got this letter about three days ago. I thought this is the right time to give it to you." Lisa was trying to explain it to Dean, but it didn't look like he heard anything much after his brother's name.

She didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but after what he had told her, she thought he needed some closure.

She covered his hand with hers, and he didn't flinched away. At the corner of her eye, she saw Ben watching them quietly from the living room. After he received the letter, Dean had completely shut down. He didn't talk, didn't eat his dinner, didn't do anything else but stare at that scrap of paper as if it held all the answer to his questions. Questions that she couldn't help answer, but maybe the letter could.

She just held on tightly to his hand.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Ben didn't know what was wrong with Dean, and no one would tell him. He tried to talk to him, but whenever he did Dean would smile at him, like a sad sort of smile and just ruffled his hair.

Mum told him to give him some space and not bother him too much, and Ben had followed her words, although somewhat reluctantly. He wanted the old Dean, the one who talked to him like an adult and showed him cool moves, but it didn't look like he would be that Dean anytime soon.

Ben also wanted to talk to Dean about the really tall stranger that he noticed the other day at the store, the one who looked like Sam, Dean's brother. He guessed that both Dean and Sam had a fight, and that was why he wouldn't come by to the house with Dean. Also, whenever Mum brought Sam up, Dean had this pained and angry look on his face. So yeah, maybe they had a fight.

Maybe it was best that he didn't bring Sam's name up too.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Sam stared at the scene in Lisa's dining room from under his usual spot under the streetlight, right hand idly playing with the amulet around his neck. He stared as if committing the entire scene in his memory, imprinting it in his mind until it was impossible to erase.

After a long while, he turned around and walked into the darkness without turning back.

He had been there for five days. It was time to go.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2 Time to return

**A/N:** Okay, confession time - this story wasn't supposed to have another chapter! I accidentally forgot to mark the story as complete the first time round. Oops.

Having said that, this is the second chapter. I started writing it when **xRisingSunx** wanted to 'see me at the next chapter'. I was like "SHIT I AM A COMPLETE MORON" and proceeded to write another chapter so as not to disappoint. And yeah, it's probably going to have one more before it's finished.

As usual, this is unbeta-ed. Let me know where the mistakes are.

I'll shut up now.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

It was time to go.

Dean had been there for four months, and all he could show for his existence in Lisa's house was himself. He had tried to be the kind of man that a woman would want in a husband, the kind of man that a kid would want as a father, but he had a terrible feeling that he failed miserably on both accounts.

He had tried to be what Sam would have wanted him to be, but he couldn't do it. He just couldn't.

Surprisingly, Lisa seemed to realize that it was time for him to move on, even before he told her. She instigated the talk one Sunday morning, after one of those rare nights that he didn't want to spend with just himself. She let him know that she would be there whenever he needed her, realized that he had been trying, but that she was never going to keep himself chained to her if he didn't want to.

They had hugged, and amidst the sniffles, she informed him that she wasn't big on goodbye scenes. Dean took it to mean that she didn't want to see him drove away while Ben and her stood by the door, so two afternoons later, when he was alone at her home, he packed his things all into his one duffel, placed it inside the trunk next to Sam's and left the extra key underneath one of the flowerpots.

He backed the car out of the driveway with the music of Zeppelin's Traveling Riverside Blues blaring from the speakers.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

_Lisa,_

_Thank you for everything._

_The key is underneath the white orchid flowerpot._

_Dean._

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Ben watched his mother read the note that Dean had passed to him this afternoon when he visited the school. Of course he had read the note as soon as Dean was out of sight, and he knew what was in there. His mum was taking a long time to read the two lines.

The older man had pulled him out of History class to tell him he was leaving them, hugged him hard and made him promise to call him whenever he wanted to. Ben made him promise the same thing. He knew that Dean was going to leave some day, and he was sad to see it come so soon, but he also felt slightly relieved. Although he tried very hard, Dean always had a sad look on his face, no matter how hard Ben or mum tried to cheer him up.

He had talked it over with Colin, and his best friend said that it was better not to tell the grown ups about Ben seeing Sam when Dean first came to live with them. Colin said Dean might get angry and hit Ben, and although Ben sort of knew Dean would never do that, he didn't want to take the chance.

He hoped that Dean would find Sam, and then maybe he would be truly happy again.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Lisa re-read the note for the fifteenth time, committing the contents to memory. She saw this coming for weeks now, and although she felt a bit crushed, she also felt less anxious. She knew that he wasn't going to be there for the long haul, and she could see him making an effort to help out around the house, repairing everything that was leaking or broken, and making sure not to mess up the house any more than necessary. She could also see him struggling to be brave through it all, and it broke her heart a little.

She could count with one hand the number of times that they shared a bed, and she welcomed the opportunity to unburden him a little, no matter how passing the relief was to him. Once, she studied him as he slept, and marveled how such a man could look like a child when the barriers were lowered.

She was a little touched that he had said his goodbyes to Ben properly, and that he bothered to even write her a note, however short it was. She hoped that he would find some peace on the road, more than he had done here, and that he could come to terms with his brother's death, and to not do anything stupid in between.

She could be wrong, she hoped she would, but she had a feeling she would never see him again.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Sam just sat at the parking lot, not believing his eyes or his luck. There, not seven feet in front of him, sat the Impala. She looked so shiny in the moonlight, the black paint gleaming and sleek, beckoning for him to come closer for a touch. Begging for him to come out of his truck and ran a finger over her shiny exterior, and to peer through the window and stole a peek at the leather interior.

He remembered the car as his savior, forcing all his memories to the surface and allowing him to gain control over Lucifer. He remembered the car as part of his family, standing there by Dean's side, not leaving him as he prepared to make the jump into the cage and trapped him once and for all. He remembered the car parked outside Lisa's house, forlorn and depressed in the dark as his brother sought some company inside the house.

The car being here meant that Dean was here too. Sam wondered what he was doing there, since it was about three hundred miles away from he was supposed to be, living his life as normal as he could. He had a thought that maybe Dean was just on a temporary trip, and that he would return back to the Braedens', but he doubted it.

Dean had returned to the life that he was trained into, the life that he had since he was four.

Sam touched the necklace that he wore, underneath his shirt, seeking strength and conviction. Perhaps it was time for him to return home too.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Thanks for reading! And yes, see you next chapter! :)


	3. Chapter 3 Time to reveal

**A/N:** Okay, there's one more chapter after this, and then this baby's wrapped up. Hooray! \o/

As usual, unbeta-ed. You know the drill.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

When he told Bobby he wasn't going to hunt anymore, he meant it. He left most of his cache of weapons back at Bobby's, taking only the barest essentials like his favorite handgun, one of the sawed-off shotguns, Sam's favorite pocket knife, one of the Bowies, and his butterfly knife. He had debated whether he would need the diver knife and the machetes, but in the end he took neither. He even left the crossbow that he had painstakingly searched for that few months after both him and Sam had hit the road.

He told Bobby to go ahead and use them, that he didn't need them anymore, but his friend was adamant that he was only safekeeping them for Dean. Dean didn't argue, he just wanted them gone.

He didn't salt the doors and windows of the house at all, and he forced himself to not look out for possible hunts whenever he was reading the newspapers. He did, however, keep his remaining weapons in top condition, cleaning and oiling and sharpening them dutifully each week. He missed his other weapons, but the feeling only came back full force a week after he finally hit the road.

He had been feeling eyes on his back for days now, ever since he stopped at the motel on his first night out. He rationalized it as paranoia, and steadfastly refused to be cowed into laying salt lines across his room's threshold or turning around whenever the hairs at the back of his neck rose. He didn't want to be forced back into the hunting life just because he was feeling jumpy.

He wandered about the country, aimless driving for hours and only stopping for a meal and a bath and a bed. He did some part time work in a garage back when he was living with Lisa, and he never did need the money for weapon parts or something equally expensive, so for the moment there wasn't any need for hustling. He just drove, not towards a hunt but just for the heck of it.

Maybe it was just his luck then, or lack thereof, that the supernatural came to him.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

_"This is Bobby. You know what to do."_

_Beep._

_"Bobby? It's Dean, Just, uh, calling to say hi. It's been a while. Anyway, I may be swinging over to your place next week or so. So, uh, see you then."_

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Dean almost ran off the road and down into the gorge when his headlights shone on a pair of red eyes in the middle of the road. As it was, he swerved and the Impala did a full turn before it stopped, narrowly missing the safety rails at the side of the road. After a shocked second, Dean checked himself out, and apart from his heart pumping with the extra shot of adrenaline, there was nothing else wrong with him.

Heart still racing, he got out of the car, palming his gun in his right hand. He wasn't sure what he had just missed, but he was sure it wasn't a good thing. The dimness of the road worked to his disadvantage, hiding the creature with the red eyes, but Dean thought he could still see the rough shape of the creature. It looked like it had wings.

Without warning, the creature emitted a loud shriek and rose up into the air, startling Dean into taking a step back and then swept down towards him. Dean was quick enough to bring up his arm to shoot the flying whatever-it-is, but he wasn't quick enough to dodge the wingspan of the creature. The sharp edges of the wing grazed his shoulder as the creature went down, and Dean could feel fire burning across his body.

He ignored the pain for the moment and focused on the creature that was now lying on the road, not moving. He moved slowly, uncertain if the thing was really dead, wondering if the iron rounds in his Glock were enough to deliver the fatal shot. He strained his ears, trying to listen for the telltale sound of indrawn breath, but all he heard were his own.

When he was within reach, he used the tip of his shoes to turn the body over. It was limp and pliant and Dean breathed out a relieved sigh and eased his stance. And that was when the living thing opened its red glowing eyes and leaped towards Dean, covering the man's body with its own.

Dean heard a shot ringing in the air just before he hit his head on the black tar and real darkness took over.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Sam let off another two rounds at the creature just to be safe, watching it jerk at the impact and fell forward onto Dean. He wanted to yell at Dean for not making sure that the thing was dead before going closer, but that was not the issue at the moment. He crept closer, wanting to hurry to his brother's side but not wanting another repeat of what just happened.

He finally reached his brother and the creature, and mimicking Dean, toed the creature off him, and then put another bullet between its eyes just to be safe. He figured on taking out his machete and beheading it, but it might be considered overkill. He would have to burn it, just as soon as he ascertained that Dean was alive and safe.

He directed his focus towards Dean, crouching down and holding his brother, patting his torso carefully to search for hidden injuries. He found a long, rather deep gash on the shoulder, and a goose egg among Dean's hair, but other than that, he was uninjured on the outside. Sam wasn't too sure about internal injuries. His brother remained still for the entire examination, and that didn't sit well with Sam.

He rubbed his hands on his face. This was not how he wanted to meet his older brother face-to-face for the first time after Dean believed him to be down in the Pit together with Lucifer and Michael. He wanted more time to steel himself for the moment when he would meet his brother's eyes and let him know that his little brother was alive.

Grasping the amulet around his neck unconsciously seeking comfort, Sam made the decision to carry Dean back to the car and drove him to the hospital, one that he had noticed when they passed the last town thirty miles back. He would drop him there and returned here to burn whatever that thing was. He told himself that he didn't want to risk not having any internal injuries checked out, and it was always better to be safe than sorry. Also, there were medical professionals there that could handle the stitching of the gash. Sam was out of practice at tending to wounds.

If Sam was to be honest with himself, the real reason he didn't want to tend to Dean, or exposed himself to his brother the minute he saw him at the motel, was that he was afraid of his brother's reaction to seeing him. He had been tailing Dean ever since he saw the Impala, careful to not be seen and just stood in the shadows to watch his brother. He was pretty sure that Dean might have known he was being followed, but that he didn't know who. From what he could observe, Dean was being as normal as an ex-hunter could be, and he didn't want to spoil the bubble of normalcy that Dean had woven around himself.

This unfortunate incident, however, had forced his hand. Sam couldn't just show up at the ER and deposited his brother and then took off without knowing how he would fare. He would stay, if not for Dean then for his own peace of mind. He would have to confront his fears and faced his remaining family member, the one person he loved the most, and the only one who could either allay his fears or made them come true.

It was time to reveal himself to Dean.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Thanks for reading! And see you at the last chapter!**  
**


	4. Chapter 4 Time to live

**A/N:** Final-freakin-ly! This chapter is such a difficult thing to write! I wanted to finish it up, but the story seemed to want to add details and little minor things here and there, and I got so frustrated I wanted to just end it with 'and they lived happily ever after'.But yeah, I refrained. Barely.

However, I got a hold of the muse and finally we came to an impasse. So here it is, the last chapter! It's a lot longer than the rest, so I hope that makes up for the lateness of the chapter.

Unbeta-ed, so you know the drill.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

The hospital that Sam thought was one was no more than an oversized clinic. There was nobody else in the clinic from what Sam could see through the transparent doors, so all Sam had to do was stagger in with his brother in his arms for everyone to take notice and leaped into action. A male nurse came forward to assist him while another nurse, female this time, grabbed hold of an empty gurney beside the nursing station and wheeled it forward. Sam laid his brother, who was still out cold, onto the bed and watched as a doctor came near and started firing questions.

"What happened?"

Sam had worked out a cover story on the way to the hospital, and the lie now tumbled effortlessly out of his lips."We were camping in the woods. He went out to gather more wood for the fire and lost his step and rolled down this slope. I think he hit his head on a rock or something, and he won't wake up."

"How long ago did it happen?" The doctor was now pushing the gurney down the hall, and Sam kept pace.

"Around half an hour ago?" Sam kept his tone hesitant, in keeping with the lie that he was weaving. "I woke up and found him that way. I'm not really sure for how long, but it wasn't more than forty-five minutes."

They entered one of the rooms along the corridor, and the male nurse put a hand on Sam's chest to stop him from following in. Sam didn't fight the barrier, letting the door separate him from Dean. He sank into a chair near the door and began his familiar routine of waiting. He would wait for the confirmation that Dean would be okay before tracking back and burning whatever-it-is.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

The male nurse came out from the room half an hour later, while Sam was wrestling with the forms, wondering which names he should write on them and praying that they would accept his explanation that they were half-brothers to account for the different surnames.

He informed Sam that Dean had awakened briefly while they were stitching the deep gash, and had fallen back to unconsciousness. Sam told him that he had to return back to camp to pack up their stuff, and left his number with the insistent instructions to call him when he woke up fully, as well as a request to keep him there until he arrived, as his brother – _half-brother really, hence the different surnames_ – as he had the tendency to sign himself out AMA as soon as he could.

An hour after that conversation, Sam stood over the hole that contained the burning corpse of what he suspected was a Jersey devil. The appearance and the M.O seemed to fit, and they were in New Jersey after all. He remembered seeing a sketch of the Jersey devil when he was younger, in Dad's journal, and it matched what he had seen of the creature so far. He had thought that the Jersey devil was a myth, perpetuated during the times when superstitions and witchcraft were prevalent and everyone was inclined to believe anything.

He then remembered that almost every monster that they had been hunting was considered a myth to the normal civilians.

He leaned on his shovel, relaxed and relieved, at the side of the hole and watched the fire burning, drawn into a light trance through the shifting shades of orange, thinking about the upcoming reunion with Dean later on. He hoped that his older brother wouldn't think him a myth too.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

"_This is Sam. Leave a message."_

_Beep._

"_Mr. Raimi, I'm calling in regards to your half-brother, Mr. Martin. He just woke up, and we have transferred him into one of the temporary wards. As you requested, we've told him to wait for your arrival. We would appreciate it if you arrive as soon as you can. The discharge papers are being drawn up. Thanks."_

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Sam made the ride back to the hospital in twenty minutes, and spent another ten minutes calming himself down as he parked the Impala at the lot. There was a part of him that was convinced that Dean would take one look at him and lunged to him with a weapon on his hands and murder in his eyes. He was convinced that Dean would not stop to ask questions, and wouldn't believe him, no matter what and how much he tried to explain. He was sure that Dean wouldn't stop until Sam was truly dead, dismembered, burnt and buried, just like the corpse that he left behind.

There was another part of him that was terrified that Dean was already gone, and that Sam had lost the chance to even start in on his explanation.

As he was just gathering his courage to open the door, to face his brother and the consequences, he heard the passenger door opened and by the time he turned his head, there was a knife poised at his jugular, the hand holding it pressing ever so slightly without breaking the skin.

"Don't move."

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Dean kept his hand steady, and internally cursed the doctor and the nurses for pumping drugs into his system, making it difficult for him to stay focused. The adrenaline spiking through his body helped, fortunately, preventing his hand from trembling much. His arm felt restricted by the tight bandage that covered the stitches, and he had a feeling he was suffering from a mild concussion.

When he had awakened and found himself in the hospital, the first thing the male nurse told him was to stay put until his brother came. Something must have shown in his eyes, for the guy started describing his brother – _your half-brother_ – and the description fitted Sam to a T. Dean hadn't wasted any time in escaping from that room as soon as the nurse's back was turned. He snatched his clothes that they left beside the bed, and going out through the window, thanking his luck that he was on the ground floor.

He managed to get out of the room only to find out that his car wasn't anywhere nearby. Swearing to God and everything else, he hid in one of the nearby alleys and watched the vehicles that drove through the hospital's parking lot, deducing that whoever or whatever had taken his car would return, and he was proven correct. He had searched the pockets, but there was no sign of the gun, nor his mobile phone, only the pocket knife that was Sam's.

The Impala rolled in, and Dean immediately stumbled towards it, the only weapon he could find on him clutched in his hand. Whoever or whatever was inside was making no move to get out, and Dean didn't wait to think before pulling the door open and sliding in, weapon ready. He caught a glimpse of startled hazel eyes that looked so much like the real Sam's before he shifted his hand and rested the edge of the knife on the neck of this…creature.

"Don't move." He kept his voice soft but firm.

The not-Sam froze, then replied in the same tone. "I'm unarmed. I'm not going to hurt you."

Dean crooked a smile. "I'm holding the knife here. Now, drop the disguise and show me your true form. I promise I won't scream like a girl."

Interestingly enough, not-Sam huffed out a small laugh. Dean tightened his hold on the knife, readied himself for a fight in close quarters. But the not-Sam just huffed out another laugh that sounded almost like a sob, and turned his head slowly to meet his eyes. "Dean, I know you are not going to believe me, and this is not the way I wanted to tell you, but I'm not a shapeshifter, or a skinwalker, or anything supernatural."

There was a pause. Then not-Sam spoke, his voice a near whisper.

"I'm just Sam. Your little brother."

For a second Dean let pure rage consume him. The thing was right there, practically begging to be killed, and Dean had no qualms about giving in to its wishes. But he made himself take a deep breath, and that action dispelled some of the ugly anger in him. He forced himself to speak in a flat voice.

"Did you really think that I'm dumb enough to fall for that? Game's over, you son of a bitch."

Not-Sam raised his hands slowly, an amazing feat considering Dean still had a knife at his neck. He even had Sam's puppy-dog thing going on, and suddenly Dean felt an ache in his heart so hard that he was half-convinced his heart had folded into itself. That's it, he had enough. This thing had got to die now.

The creature spoke, piercing through his thoughts. "Dean, please. I'm speaking the truth. I escaped Lucifer's cage. I don't know how, but I did. You can do any test on me if you want. Silver, iron, holy water, anything."

Dean closed his eyes for a second, swamped by a flood of fatigue. He was injured, he was out of practice, and he certainly wasn't at the top of his game. He needed to regroup, to fortify his walls against the feelings that arouse by the appearance of not-Sam, and he needed to be behind his baby.

"All right. We do this outside the car. Open the door and slide out. Slowly, no sudden movements."

Complying with his instructions, the creature slid out of the driver's seat, standing outside in the cold frigid air, his face expectant and hopeful. Dean took a moment to really looked at not-Sam, and quickly looked away, unwilling to give that creature any more ammunition that necessary, and to force any doubts from his mind. He slid along with him across the bench seat, and made to get out of the car the same way as he did.

At the last moment, he grabbed hold of the handle of the door, slammed it shut, turned the ignition and pressed on the accelerator, ignoring not-Sam's squawk of surprise. The car lurched forward, and he left his 'brother' standing with his mouth open at the gravels of the parking lot.

As he sped away, he couldn't help but glanced through the rearview mirror, and saw not-Sam's face arranged itself into Sam's expression of frustration and hurt. The satisfaction that he felt was brief, and he pressed harder on the accelerator, eager to get to South Dakota as soon as he could.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

"_This is Dean. Let me know what you want."_

_Beep._

"_Dean, I'm not at home at the moment, but let yourself in. You know where everything is. I'll be back in two days' time, as soon as the hunt's over…Dean, it's good to hear from you, son. We'll catch up later."_

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Sam was tired of always being two steps behind his brother, so he went with his gut feeling that told him that Dean would be heading towards Bobby. He dropped himself to Newark and bought himself the first flight out to South Dakota, arriving in plenty of time to intercept his brother en route. He didn't want to appear in front of the older hunter just like that, and he didn't think that Dean would react well to arriving at Bobby's junkyard and seeing Sam there. Again, following his instincts and his estimations, he booked a room at a hotel that both of them had stayed before, rationalizing that Dean would need to rest his body for at least a few hours before meeting up with Bobby.

His gamble paid off, and he saw the Impala arriving three hours before he expected it. It caught him off-guard, but he was prepared nevertheless, and from his vantage point at the window facing the manager's office, he saw his brother struggle out of the car, looking worse for wear. Sam had the idea that he had driven all the way there without filling his prescriptions and relying on the usual over the counter drugs to keep the pain at bay.

As luck would have it, his brother was checked into a room three doors down from Sam. He didn't waste the upper hand that he was given. He knew that his best chance was to catch Dean off-guard and compelled him to listen when his barriers were still down. With that in mind, he gave Dean twenty minutes before exiting his room and made his way towards the other room. He picked the lock, and opened the door slowly and as quietly as he could. There was no one in the room, and Sam heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. He closed the door and then there was a sound of another door opening and he came face-to-face with Dean for the second time in two days.

Dean was slack-jawed, surprise clearly shown on his face, along with a measure of pain. Sam spoke quickly, before Dean could break out of his shock.

"Dean, please, just listen. It's really me. I know it's hard to believe, but I'm really your brother."

Without another word, Dean lunged at him, but Sam sidestepped it. He turned back to his brother, this time with a silver knife in his hand, one that he had stolen from the hardware store in town. He saw Dean tensed up and hurried on with his explanation.

"Look, I'm just going to cut myself with this silver knife, and you can see my blood okay?" And he quickly proceeded to press a shallow cut on his arm. Red drops of blood flowed out from the wound.

"See? It's red. I'm not a shapeshifter or a skinwalker. Need more proof?"

Dean's answer was cryptic and abrupt. "Walk towards me. Slowly."

Sam was puzzled, but he followed instructions, walking towards Dean, whose eyes widened and took a step back when he stepped away from the rug and onto the wooden floor. Immediately he understood. There was a devil's trap under the rug.

His train of thought was interrupted when he felt cold water on his face. Spluttering, he turned an angry face on his brother. The latter was holding a flask of what he assumed was holy water, desperation visible on his face.

Sam scowled. "There's no need to splash it on my face."

Dean didn't crack even a smirk or came back with a rebuttal. Sam was starting to get desperate.

"I can recite the exorcism for you if you want. Or the Lord's name? Christo. Deus. Do you want me to cross a threshold lined with salt? Hold iron to show you I'm not a faerie? Dean, it's really me."

Dean's face and voice cracked. "Sam?"

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Dean didn't allow himself to hope. He had fantasized about this moment during the earlier months, about what he would do if he ever got the chance to meet his brother again, but he had never hold on hope that it would turn out that way. But somehow, faced with the reality, he couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe in it, in case this turned out to be a dream. Dean didn't think he could deal with that outcome.

Nevertheless, after watching this creature walked across a devil's trap, said God's name, had no reaction to holy water and silver, and his eyes stayed the same hazel color all throughout, Dean had finally dared to admit that this not-Sam was actually Sam. The real Sam. His little brother Sam who jumped into Lucifer's cage to trap him and consequently stop the Apocalypse, and had miraculously gotten out again.

"Sam?" He repeated, for that seemed to be the only word that could escape from his mouth.

Sam smiled, and Dean felt his eyes water at the sight of the smile that he thought he would never see again. The smile was the same smile as he remembered, wide, yet shy at the same time. Sam nodded at the sound of his name, eyes meeting Dean's and holding them there.

"Hi Dean."

This was really Sam. Dean felt his legs move, and the next moment he had Sam in his arms.

The hug might have lasted hours or minutes, Dean could never be sure. All he knew was his brother safe and warm in his embrace, and Dean could feel his neck getting wet, although there was no sound coming from Sam. Dean could feel the moisture pooling at his eyes spilling over his cheeks.

All the months without Sam, all the time that he was just trying to survive, could never be erased. But it could heal, and he could move on from there. All that while he was just going through the motions, doing his best to honor Sam's memories, doing his best to take care of Ben and Lisa, and not taking particular care to his own wants and needs.

Getting back on the road had offer a small measure of peace, but not much. He didn't want to get back into hunting, but he knew that he would be making his way towards Bobby eventually. And that would signal the end of his hunt-free life, however short it was.

At that very moment, though, he had his brother back. Sam was the one thing that he had ever thought about for the last few months, every single day without fail, and right then he was in his arms. It might seem impossible, but then nothing in their lives so far had ever been predictable. If Dean could be dragged out of Hell by the angels, who was to say that God, or whoever else, couldn't do the same to his little brother? He didn't know why Sam was back, how he got back, when he was back, but the main thing was that he was there, in his own flesh and himself again. The details could wait.

It was time to live again.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Thanks for making it this far! I have another story lined up, so if you want to just wait for that. Hopefully that one would go a lot more smoother. **  
**


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